


Seven Eight Time

by Ellie5192



Series: A Little Light Music [3]
Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Pizza, Pre-ship, and a movie, laughing, significant Mumma!Raydor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7/8 time signature: An irregular beat, sounding almost like a hiccup in a normal 4/4 bar, like you've forgotten the next note, or held the last one just a fraction too long. Tricky to catch, weird to play, uncomfortable to read, and beautiful to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Eight Time

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: drinking. For the Flynn/Raydor prompt challenge on lj.

**_Seven Eight Time_ **

 

She’s sitting at her desk, signing off on the last of her weekly reports, when she hears his voice filter in from the murder room. Someone, probably Sykes, had mentioned her name, and with a nod she sees Andy respond and head for her office door. She’s putting the closed file in her ‘out’ pile just as he pokes his head around the door frame, rapping lightly on the door with his knuckles.

She smiles in greeting, standing up from her desk, raising her eyebrows in question.

“Hey Captain, you wanna come with us for drinks? We’re all heading down to the bar around the corner”

There is no trace of condescension or insincerity in his tone, and for that she is grateful, because inviting the boss to Friday drinks might be considered good form, but the last thing she wants to be is the interloper. There have been times when she’s been deliberately snubbed of an offer- an act considered by some to be one of the lowest displays of disrespect- but she’d rather be not invited than accept an invitation and stick out like a sore thumb. She didn’t choose her career to make friends, but it sure is nice to have them.

“Oh, I don’t know” she says. “I should really get home, it’s already late”

For a moment she thinks he looks disappointed.

“The kid at home?” he asks, understanding and sympathy all rolled in one.

“He is”

“You can’t spare a couple of hours?” he asks, looking hopeful, and she wonders why he’s pushing so hard. “Just one drink?”

She smiles to herself and takes a brief moment think it over. “One drink” she agrees, nodding her head to the side in happy defeat, collecting her bag. “But then I really have to get home”

“Understood” he nods, standing to the side of the doorway as she turns out her office light and then walks past him. She walks out to the murder room as everyone is turning off their computers and sliding into their jackets.

“Hey Captain, you comin’?” asks Sanchez with a grin.

“One drink” answers Andy, with exaggerated emphasis, which makes her smirk.

She takes quiet notice of Provenza. He looks to the ceiling, almost rolling his eyes, but it’s too forced and too deliberate for it to be genuine displeasure, and a feeling of security rolls down her spine. If Provenza has come to accept her place here, maybe she does belong after all.

“Rusty’s at home and I don’t want to leave him by himself for too long. Technically he shouldn’t be alone at all, but hey, one drink can’t hurt”

“Ah, the kid’ll be fine” says Provenza, waving his hand. She can hear affection in his voice. They all love him too, she knows. “What’s a half hour? He’s probably too busy playing video games to notice”

She lets out a soft laugh in acknowledgement, and they all walk as a group towards the elevators. Sykes and Sanchez are discussing something that happened earlier in the day, and the rest are happy to listen in, the week rolling off their backs as the weekend finally begins. Her phone dings, and she looks at the screen with a smile, seeing Rusty’s impatient text waiting for her and a request for pizza. She fires off a quick response, promising to be home soon, and being ambiguous about his dinner choice. She knows she’ll end up giving in.

“So Captain” starts Tao. “How did Rusty go on his big test?”

“Oh, very well I think. He’ll get it back next week, but he seems confident. I can’t thank you enough for helping him study for it- honestly I have no idea when it comes to high school chemistry”

“That’s good. I was happy to help. God knows I’ve done it for my son enough times to be good at it”

“Well I really appreciate it, Mike”

If they notice everyone else in the elevator smiling they don’t mention it. The doors open and they file out, Andy’s hand landing at the small of her back as he ushers her out in front of him. She thinks nothing of it, though physical contact is not the norm for them. An occasional touch here or there is barely noticed when it happens, and she belatedly thinks that could be dangerous, but it’s too late to change now, and if she stops him it will only make a scene. His hand falls away only a moment later. She kind of misses it.

“You know where to go?” he asks her lightly, not loud enough to inspire derision from the others.

She gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, softened by the half smile she also gives, and he just shrugs his shoulders and holds his hands palm-up, backing towards his car with a boyish grin.

“I’ll follow you” she replies sarcastically, and his laughter is music to her ears as they both slide into their cars, parked only a few spaces apart. Every cop in the office knows the dive-in-the-wall they’re talking about.

The bar is half packed and they only manage to find a tall standing table in the centre of the floor space. Sanchez and Tao run off with the drink order, Buzz had left the office right on five and so is understandably absent, and Amy sees an old friend and excuses herself for a moment to run across to a booth full of young women. For a moment there’s a chance for their little table to get awkward, as none of the remaining three know what to say to each other. Sharon bends her knees a little, wincing at the pressure of her heels on her feet. It’s been a long day.

“Delicate knees, Captain?” asks Provenza with fake concern, though his mood is friendly enough, so she doesn’t feel put out.

“I love these shoes, but they are absolutely killing me” she admits, bending her knees again.

“Well, then why the hell do you wear them?” asks Andy.

Provenza cuts off any response, pitching his voice high and flitting his eyelids, his cadence taking on a mild southern lilt that feels familiar. “Because they just look so good, can’t you see how good they look, fashion over comfort, Andrew, fashion over comfort” He flicks his invisible hair over one shoulder for emphasis.

She can’t help herself. She bursts out laughing.

She think she must have shocked them, because they both just stand there grinning at her antics, but she lets out a deep alto laugh and bends over, almost knocking her head on the high table in the process. She looks up at Provenza again after a moment, and another little round of giggles escapes, but she pulls herself together and straightens up.

“I’m sorry” she says. They are both still grinning stupidly at her, and she knows that was the last response they ever expected from her.

Tao and Sanchez arrive back at their table with the drinks, ushering Amy over from across the bar.

“What did we miss?”

“Provenza’s a girl and the Captain can laugh” says Andy, grinning at her one more time out of the corner of his eye.

“Really?” asks Sanchez, seemingly surprised as he looks at her, but after a single moment his gaze flicks to Provenza as he adds “You’re secretly a woman?”

They all chuckle at that, raising their glasses just slightly in acknowledgement before drinking.

“Oh, there’s nothing like an ice-cold drink to finish the week” says Provenza, practically smacking his lips as he takes a second, smaller sip.

“I’ll drink to that, Lieutenant” replies Sharon, raising her wine glass in his direction before putting it down on the table.

“So Captain, any plans for the weekend?” asks Tao.

“I was thinking of taking Rusty to The La Brea Tar Pits. He mentioned he’s never been, and it’s been quite some time since I went myself”

“You’re taking the boy to look at a hole full of tar?” asks Provenza, an incredulous look on his face.

“Many holes, open working pits, and a museum” amends Tao.

“And a movie after” adds Sharon with a smirk. “As a reward for putting up with the hard task of seeing one of this city’s most famous sites”

“Museum and a movie. Sounds like a great day out. What about the other half?” asks Andy, having a sip of his cranberry soda, a grin on his face.

“Hopefully housework” she replies, her answering grin disappearing behind the rim of her glass as she also takes a sip. The rest all chuckle at her, obviously not finding it hard to imagine her ordering Rusty around with the vacuum cleaner.

“Well I plan on sitting on the couch, watching television and doing absolutely nothing” says Provenza.

“What’s new” mutters Tao, but it goes unnoticed.

“What about you Flynn? Got a hot date?” asks Sanchez.

“Maybe” he replies with a sly look. They’ve all turned back to the conversation before she notices his lasting gaze on her, and before she can give a look of her own, he has turned back to the friendly banter of the group. She doesn’t know what to make of his attention. She’s been noticing it more and more; the looks, the touches, the meaningful expressions, the way he is so quick to defend her when suspects get mouthy, the way he’s the first to volunteer to help her or partner with her. The way he’s taken to staying late if she does. The way those nights so often linger, not because of workload, but because they end up talking the night away.

The way he never asks anymore how she takes her tea or coffee, or whether she needs one, though he’s always right.

She shakes herself out of her reverie quickly, and takes another long sip of her wine. It’s almost finished, and for that she’s grateful, because she needs to get home to Rusty, and she doesn’t need to be standing in a bar considering her Lieutenant out of the corner of her eye.

She doesn’t think there’s anything untoward about officers developing friendships among themselves; often units thrive on those allegiances. She just can’t for the life of her understand why Andy has chosen her of all people as his latest ally, and though it would be an easy explanation to hide behind, she doesn’t think it’s because he wants her to be his latest conquest. It’s a flattering thought, but also erroneous and totally self-indulgent. Besides, she thinks, he may not even be aware of the extra attention he gives her, and she might just be noticing something that’s not there. The thought of it being more than a coincidence is ridiculous, and she shakes it away.

She takes a backseat in the conversation, listening and laughing, but happy to merely be a spectator. Her drink is gone only a little while later, and she notices Andy’s is too, and she thinks nothing of it until she collects her things to go.

“You heading off, Captain?” asks Sanchez, as Sykes downs her beer and gestures for another.

“I am. Rusty’s expecting me and dinner, so I better…”

She throws her jacket over her arm and her bag over her opposite shoulder.

“Thank you for the invite, and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer” she says, hoping her presence tonight has inspired further invitations.

“No worries, Captain”

“Have fun tomorrow”

“I will, thank you. See you all on Monday. Goodnight everyone”

She’s just turning to leave when she notices Andy is following her, and she shoots him a questioning glare, berating herself for reasons she doesn’t quite understand.

“I’ll walk you to your car” he says simply, and if he sees the suspicious look Provenza gives, he doesn’t acknowledge it. She’s too polite to dismiss his offer, and so only nods again, an unreadable expression on her face, and allows him to walk her out of the crowded bar and across the carpark.

“Thank you, Andy. You didn’t have to”

“I know. But we wouldn’t want some bad guy jumping out at you”

His comment should sound condescending, and in any other context she would assume it is, but there’s nobody around, and he looks just innocent enough that she thinks he was honestly a bit worried for her. She’s completely taken by surprise, and doesn’t know what to say. She stares at him for a long, solid moment, and he lets her, neither moving away nor flinching under her gaze. If he’s giving her a moment to size him up, she doesn’t quite know what her assessment would be. If not, he’s doing a marvellous job of staying cool, or hiding his embarrassment. She’s fairly good at reading people, but here, under the dim lights of the local dive, she has no idea what his motives are, and it’s both exciting and terrifying.

“Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armour. You’ve delivered me safely to my car”

Her voice sounds as unsteady as she feels, and though she manages to say goodbye and get into the driver’s seat without making a fool of herself, she ends up watching him all the way to the door of the bar, his hands slipping lazily in his pockets, a relaxed look on his face. She curses herself for being thrown so easily, and ends up recalling their every interaction on her way home, looking for the moment when they became friends; looking deeper to see if she’s misinterpreted something more.

She doesn’t find her answers.

When she walks inside, Rusty is watching television on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, his laptop discarded on the seat beside him. He greets her in true teenage fashion (barely at all), and she smiles, because not so long ago he would have been up and trying to be helpful, and before that he would have ignored or abused her. He finally considers this place his home, and it never fails to warm her heart.

She makes her way to the fridge and indulges in another glass of wine as she grabs a can of soda for her charge, and it feels completely decadent and childish to collect the almost-empty ice cream container from the freezer and bring it to the couch with two spoons.

“What about dinner?” is his first question. She almost laughs.

“I don’t remember it ever killing anybody to have dessert first. So long as you promise to have something after”

“Sure. What’re we having?”

He’s already opened the can and is mixing it with his mouthful of ice cream in his mouth. She has a fleeting thought that they should make ice cream floats, but she saves it for another day, or maybe as a bribe for when she next needs one.

“I was thinking… pizza” she replies, deliberately casual as she keeps her eyes on the television, flicking her killer heals off with a happy sigh. She can still see him grinning widely from the corner of her eye.

“Seriously? Can we even get pepperoni?”

“Whatever you want” she confirms with a smile, turning to him.

“Alright”

He launches himself off the couch, and she hears him take the phone and make the delivery order in record time. She smiles to herself. She still can’t figure out Andy, or what his behaviour is all about, but her relationship with Rusty has never been stronger, and she considers that a positive. Her phone dings in her pocket, and she rolls her eyes as she sees Andy’s name pop up on the screen. He’s checking to see she got home okay. It’s accompanied by a sarcastic smiley face, but it still sounds like he cares, and she is getting so darn confused by his behaviour she merely sends back a dismissive thanks and hopes that’s the end of it. Her world has only just found equilibrium again, between a job change and Rusty, and the boy’s father- she doesn’t need his mood to add another complication. She shakes herself back into the present at the sound of Rusty’s voice in the kitchen.

“I was thinking, if you’re not busy, you and I could hit the town tomorrow” she calls, as he comes back into the room behind her.

“Pizza’s gonna be twenty” he says, flopping back into the cushions next to her, just a little closer than before. She deliberately bumps her head against his, and they both smile. 

“What do you say?” she asks.

“Where to?”

“The Tar Pits”

“Really? I heard the museum is really cool. They have these mammoth bones and a whole wall of direwolf skulls- James was telling me about it after he went with his cousin”

“So what do you say? Hit up a museum with an old maid?”

He grins at her, because they’ve become better at making fun of themselves, and each other, and he made some crack at her the other night about being of the wrong generation to truly appreciate social media. It had led to a passionate exchange of the best that each decade had to offer, and though he had already seen her eclectic taste in music, he had never pegged her for a lover of old Hollywood.

“I’d love to go to the museum with you, but I won’t be holding your walker steady around the park. You’re on your own”

She throws her head back and laughs at him, deep in her belly. Despite her mixed feelings, this night has at least been one for laughter.

Rusty only takes another swig of his soda, and she picks up her wine and takes a sip, swinging her feet onto the coffee table next to his, surprising him. She’s never told him off for doing it- he figures after her own kids she’s given up trying- but he’s never seen her so much as brush the edge of the table with her toe. It’s a strangely comforting gesture. Once his program is finished, and the pizza delivered and devoured, Rusty flicks the channel to an old movie and together they watch Ann Miller flit across the screen.

By the time her head hits the pillow, a little later than normal, all thoughts of Andy are far from her mind, and if she dreams of him, she doesn’t remember it. It’s only in the morning, while they’re making pancakes and debating which movie session they want to see, that she’ll notice the picture he’s texted to her, of a drunken Amy leaning on Sanchez’s shoulder with a grin, and a goofy Provenza giving her bunny ears, and Tao holding up a set of car keys he’s obviously confiscated. She’ll laugh, and show Rusty, and reply that she’s sorry she missed it, and wonder why he bothered to send it to her at all given she’s their boss. She’ll save the picture to her phone, and think of something witty to say about it, and ponder where she would have fit in had she stayed at the bar long enough. And after a full day out with Rusty, and a relaxing evening at home, she’ll look at the picture again, and decide that she probably would have been standing right next to Andy as he took  the picture, tipsy enough to be laughing, sober enough not to kiss him.

And that thought terrifies her.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks to Cami (akachankami) for another great prompt, despite her busy schedule. This one was based on a conversation I had with a cop who is very close to (read: lives with) me. The ritual of Friday night drinks is an important part of building rapport and trust within a unit, and snubbing the boss is seen as great/huge/deliberate disrespect, regardless of whether or not they’ll actually go. This little ritual reminded me of Sharon, and I finally have a place to put it.  
> The experience of this time signature is a personal one- try singing it in a school choir. Good luck.


End file.
